


across the stars

by nuka_cherries



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: < - I did not know this was a tag so I'm keeping it, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, F/M, I'm Writing My Own Damn Shoker Romance, IN SPACE!, Mass Effect 2, Mass Effect 3, Mental Health Issues, Renegade Shepard (Mass Effect), Secret Relationship, Shepard (Mass Effect) has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Spacer (Mass Effect), Vanguard (Mass Effect), War Hero (Mass Effect)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:06:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28368858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nuka_cherries/pseuds/nuka_cherries
Summary: He looked down at Shepard, who was tired but happy. There was a glimmer on her cheeks, highlighted by the ambient violet of the sky above. She was warm in his arms. He must be the luckiest man in the galaxy if it meant that he could hold her like this.“I'll never get over how beautiful this is,” Shepard sighed.She was talking about the Citadel, he knew that. An emotion lodged in his throat that he wasn’t sure he could say out loud yet. The emotion that always fluttered and festered when it came to her. How she was the one person he always had on his mind, since they were both seventeen and musing about travelling through the stars outside Arcturus.“Me either,” Joker said softly, and it was no lie.But he wasn't looking at the Citadel.
Relationships: Garrus Vakarian/Tali'Zorah nar Rayya, James Vega/Ashley Williams, Jeff "Joker" Moreau/Female Shepard
Kudos: 3





	1. The Ambience of Time

**Author's Note:**

> Feliz Navidad! This fic took me about 3 years to write!
> 
> Hopefully I won't take ✨ 3 YEARS TO UPDATE! ✨

The gala after the Citadel recovered from Saren had been a party to remember.

Open to all, extremely secured, a celebration at the prevention of the end of the world. There was promotions, sales for gowns and suits that soared over the roof, anything to be gala-ready. There were awards. Cheap, hastily made tabloid documentaries that had the civilian's perspective of the major battle. What a way for the socialites of the Citadel to take the home front of the news and capitalize on the Battle For the Citadel. Depending on who you asked, the victory against Sovereign was for humanity. Or it was for honor. 

And it was so much _bullshit._

Joker had seen the beacon react against Margaret Shepard during the first mission, where she was knocked out for twelve hours and woke up to report that she had seen terrible visions. It was waved off as injury-related head trauma, not to be taken oh so seriously. She did favors for half Citadel space, half Terra, and she still managed to be more diplomatic than the council. 

But she was humble. She deserved the attention and the world to see how good she was. Hell yeah, that's Margaret Shepard. 

But the galas were just another way to dismiss her warning and pretend everything was fine. The Shepard dynasty had its history in the Milky Way and she somehow managed to outshine her own steps with being the hero of the Skyllian Blitz and now, the Champion of the Citadel. 

At the gala, Joker watched her from a distance. She only got a moment to say hello before she was whisked off by Hannah, the motherShepard that half the galaxy feared and respected all at once. Shepard danced with diplomats, with Ashley, with Tali. With Kaidan. With her brother. With her dad. She even got to dance with Anderson, briefly. Shepard couldn't dnce, not at all.

He sat in the same area as the Normandy crew did, mingled and laughed with his friends. He almost got to dance with Shepard. 

Too bad Hannah didn't let that happen.

But if the text from Shepard about confirming to meet him in the courtyard meant anything, she managed to get away. He left the gala as it was dying down, sticking around to send a message to hi family in Tiptree that could not make it. It was nice to see Gunny again, and his dad, even if it was through a screen. 

They agreed to meet in the courtyard, on the rooftop garden by his apartment he rarely got to use. 

Shepard stood at the railing of the terrace and watched the view from above. The loose bun she had styled was undone, with curls going down her back. The velvet turquoise of her dress glimmered in the faint violet lighting of the upper Wards. 

In another time, he thought so abstractedly, she could be a queen. Watching over her own kingdom. Margaret Shepard could shake the galaxy to its bare atom foundations and she had proved it so with saving the Citadel. 

But that didn't matter.

“Hey.” 

“You’re here!” she exclaimed.

“Of course I am,” Joker grinned. 

In fast strides, Shepard crossed the clearing of the courtyard and pulled him into her arms.

He stepped back at arm’s length to look at her closer.

“My god,” Joker said. “Let me just…take you in.”

“What?” Shepard asked.

“You…look amazing.”

Even her black wrist brace matched with the sleek manicured black nails. The velvet dress glimmered in the dark. She was so pretty.

“Thank you,” Shepard smiled. “You look pretty damn good yourself.”

“Oh, this? I just put this on,” Joker said. 

And he had. Just an Alliance leather jacket with nice pants, nice shoes and a nice button up shirt. He wore the Normandy cap, as usual. 

And hilariously, it was one that Hannah did _not_ like and had pointed out in the moments before Margaret got there.

“You, however…Wow. You look amazing.”

“Glad you like it,” Shepard said. “You should have heard the outcry I got from everyone when I first got to the gala.”

“So, by everyone, you mean your mom,” Joker stated.

“Yeah,” Shepard said. “Something about the slit being too high, my neckline being too low, ‘Maggie, why is your dress so...elegant?’, ‘Your brace doesn’t match with the fabric’...” She sighed. “Yeah. Every comment under the artificial sun.”

Joker snorted. “Yeah, that sounds like Hannah,” he brushed a curl over her ear. “Hey, don’t take it too personally. She missed you. She sure as hell did not miss me.”

“Did she give you a hard time?”

He thought back to the friendly ribbing he got from Maggie’s brother, the bear hug from her father and the downright criticism from her mother, unwelcoming and full of spite.

Ah, Shepards. 

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he said. And he meant it. He spent almost all his life dealing with Shepards. 

Yet, Shepard didn’t believe it. Her frown showed it. And he fought the urge to smooth out the frown on her forehead with a kiss. 

...He could do that, though. He could.

He had to be a little daring. All of this was truly uncharted territory, since the confession before Illois. Since the night that followed after that. And any stolen moments that they could have up until the morning before she fought Saren.

“Hey,” he kissed her forehead. "Don't worry about it. Hannah's got nothing on me."

To his relief, Shepard relaxed a little bit at the action and linked her braced hand with his own.

"I thought you bailed," she confessed.

“Why would I do that?”

“...Y'know, that’s what rock stars do," she fidgeted at her feet. "They bail their own party to go to another party.”

“Well, the night is still young for an after party, but I don’t think I’m a rock star,” Joker said with a laugh. "And why would I bail in seeing you?"

She didn't have a good answer for that.

Nervousness set in with him for the first time. Maybe he was in over his head. Maybe she was trying to reject him as politely as she could. 

"Unless...do you not want to---"

"What?! No!" Shepard exclaimed. "I mean--yes--I do want to be here--" she exhaled. "Okay! Okay. I can do this...Yes, I want to be here. I really do. It's just...Today was overwhelming. There's a lot of bullshit."

"There's no bullshit from me," Joker said, and he meant it. "Okay? We're on shore leave. Let's just...enjoy this moments as they come. Gala is behind us. Or, below us. Technically."

Joker wrapped his arms around her waist and watched as the gala continued hundreds of meters below the terrace, the bass of the music and the lights of the Citadel shimmering below the nebula sky.

He looked down at Shepard, who was tired but happy. There was a glimmer on her cheeks was barely there yet highlighted by the soft violet of the stars above, like a soft kiss. He must be the luckiest man in the galaxy if it meant that he could hold her like this. Every moment was borrowed with the threat of the Reapers. 

But every second was so worth it. 

“I'll never get over how beautiful this is,” Shepard sighed. 

An emotion lodged in his throat that he wasn’t sure he could say out loud yet. The emotion that always fluttered and festered when it came to her. How she was the one person he always had on his mind, since they were both seventeen and musing about travelling through the stars outside Arcturus.

“Me either,” Joker said softly. 

But he wasn't looking at the Citadel.

He kissed her hair, then her temple. He wondered if he could live in this moment forever. Or at least delay it in not ending for a few more hours. With the secrecy of the relationship, all of their moments were stolen.

"Margaret, would you like to stay over?"

"Yes," she smiled and hooked her elbow around his. "Lead the way."

* * *

Eventually, they would have to be back in three weeks to report back to work on the Normandy. The Alliance’s reward to the crew for saving the entirety of the Citadel from a threat they did not take seriously was a medal and three weeks' shore leave. Three weeks. 

_Thank you for your service and almost dying for our ignorance. Here’s a gala, a ceremony, a promised raise, a monument and three week’s vacation. Don’t forget! Report to the Normandy docking bay at 06:00._

Joker tried not to think about that.

The next morning, she woke up before him and over cooked the eggs. She wore his sweatshirt and some shorts he forgot he owned. She offered to keep the burnt eggs for herself and cook another batch for him, but he was too busy serving them on his plate to let her argue otherwise. He didn’t care. Every moment was worth it with her. Burnt sunny side up or not. 

She put old Earth radio music on, musing about concerts and wondering if there was such a thing as Hanar Broadway. To which Joker said of course there was. To which she said she would believe it when she saw it. 

It was the tiniest slice of normalcy; her overcooking the eggs, the way that even after the gala, she still couldn’t dance but didn’t care about it. Like his own, her voice was slightly hoarse from the night before. Her eyes were dusted with the last of mascara she could not wash off entirely. He was happy. She was laughing again. 

And he focused on the slice of normalcy. The bare crumbs of it.

Who knew how long it would take before it all went to hell?

* * *

Sneaking around was a normal thing, right? What normal couples did with a new relationship.

He always was a little more daring than most of his classmates. It’s how he took the Normandy for a joy ride, and flew her as smoothly across the galaxy. 

So he dared a little. It was a little tedious to sneak around to find her on the Normandy, even more to sneak into her quarters. But whether the crew was catching on and saying nothing, or they totally knew since day one and said nothing, it did not matter much.

But it meant waking up an hour before everyone else to get his "morning routine" underway that garnered him an "early bird." Waking up an hour early in Shepard's quarters to her annoying alarm. He swore it was once a Terran siren instead of an alarm.

“Ugh, come on,” Joker groaned. He pulled the cover over his head, knowing damn well that the action only mimed resistance against the alarm being so loud. 

And since she was incredibly cruel, Shepard pulled off the cover.

He could hear her laughter. And while he loved hearing her laugh, this was at _his_ expense.

He turned around to see her sitting at the desk-turned vanity area as she got ready for the day. Her hair was wet and left some trails down on her shoulders.

"You know what's the old Earth saying? Early bird gets the worm?" she asked. She had already showered in the tiny restroom that he did not know existed in her quarters up until recently. She kept a spare toothbrush of his in her mirror cabinet already. 

“The backup pilot already did their job,” Shepard grinned.

“And what do you have to do?”

“You, mostly.” 

“Mostly? Is there another pilot I should know of? So we can trade shifts?”

It took Shepard a moment to catch on his meaning. The slow realization of it had her groan into the mirror, then finally, like most of the audience that was ever present for his comments, had her turn around and complain at him. “Oh, that’s _terrible_. That's actually the worst pun you have ever done.”

“But am I the worst pilot you have ever done? Be honest.”

Shepard started to laugh. “Stop. Stop. Please stick to your day job. You’re terrible at this!”

“Well, hey. Give me some time to practice.”

She laughed out loud, the sound so beautiful and full. It felt nice hearing her laugh more and more after Saren.

“You're in luck. Since you're such an early riser,” she smiled. “We have all the time in the world. I’ll see you in the mess hall.”

* * *

Now, all time had run out.

Shepard was careful when she pried him out of the chair and through the flames of their burning ship. Desperation caught on to her final stretch to get him into the escape pod. With a push of her nova wave, Shepard flung him into the escape pod and he definitely felt something break. The door sealed as she slammed the button out, then she was out in open space. 

“Oh...my helmet.”

Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no.

All he could hear was her choking.

“Hey, Maggie,” Joker said. “Hey. Come on, just hang on. Help will be on the way soon. Please hang on,” he begged. He wasn't sure to who he was begging to. Was it a Hail Mary, to ask for more time? When they had no more time and no more hope?

Somehow, her helmet cracked. Her suit was running out of air. Somehow in the process of saving him, her helmet damaged. 

“Shepard, honey, I'm begging you, please stay with me. I'm so sorry this had to happen. Stay with me, we'll get you safe. Hang on-”

Then he heard it. It was barely a whisper, barely heard over the hum of the ion engine beneath his broken leg. It was her voice, the one he loved to hear so much.

_“Jeff.”_

Then, her communication link went silent.

He shoved himself up on one seat to grasp at the handle of the sealed pod. In the tiny window, he looked to the emptiness of space and to her motionless self. It was no technical failure. No glitch in the system. 

Joker felt his heart drop.

No, no, no, _fuck._

It can't be true.

It isn't true. 

But he heard it himself. He heard her last breaths. Felt her last touch.

Her last words were his name.

* * *


	2. The Revival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Okay. Run that by me again. I was dead?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was actually already completed and all it needed was some edits and changes! Happy to break the three year curse of updating.  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> -knocks on wood seventy times-

Margaret Shepard wasn't sure how to feel when she woke up from being back from the dead.

Then she woke up once and her first thought was that _oh no, mom was right. I did go to hell._

Then a cute woman with an Australian accent talked to her?

Was that God? 

Probably not.

Then she fell asleep again.

Then she's being yelled at to wake up and put on a suit of armor and find a gun that doesn't overheat and uses ammo clips? She finds no hair tie, instead being forced to tuck her hair into the back of her armor. She was alive for some reason. Her face hurt.

So maybe Shepard was slightly erratic when Jacob Taylor hastily introduced himself and asked her in the middle of fighting mechs if she was okay. Maybe he omitted the details that yes, she did _technically_ die, but the Lazarus project done under Cerberus brought her back to life. And he also omitted the detail that her biotic powers were much stronger than they were before she died and she screamed when there was the unexpected kickback that almost sent her flying.

So now there she was, sitting in a shuttle.

Confused as hell.

Alive again?

“Okay. Run that by me again. I was dead?” Shepard asked for maybe the fourth time that hour.

“Yes,” Miranda Lawson said curtly. She sat across from Shepard in the shuttle, legs crossed. She typed out on a datapad that was sitting on her lap with one hand, and scrolled through the second one with her other hand. How?

“You suffocated in space due to damage in your suit. Bit of a rough way to go,” Jacob commented.

“I remember that,” Shepard said. “And Cerberus brought me back?”

“Yes. For the past two years, the Lazarus cell has been working non-stop to keep you alive. The project cost almost two billion credits.”

Shepard gaped. “I cost two-billion credits?”

“Aside from that, I'm just to make sure your memory is still intact…” Miranda pulled out _another_ datapad. Where did she get it? “I'm going to ask you a few questions.”

“Seriously?” Shepard asked. “You tell me that I was dead for two years, and you're the one asking _me_ questions?”

Miranda's attitude didn't change. “Just humor us, Shepard,” she said. “We need to make sure you're one hundred percent there in your head.”

Shepard sighed, crossing her arms. In annoyance, she leaned back into the seat. “Fine,” she huffed out. “Not like I have much of a choice.”

“Who was the first human admiral appointed to the Council?”

“David Anderson.”

“And what is he to you?” Miranda asked.

“Former captain of the Normandy and my mentor. That's--Does he know I'm alive?”

“Next question,” Miranda took notes in the new datapad. 

Shepard turned to Jacob. “Jacob, does Anderson know I'm alive?” she asked.

Jacob shrugged. “I don't know, Shepard. Sorry about that.”

_Great. Even Jacob was on a need to know basis. And he works here!_

“What's your mother's name?”

“Hannah Shepard. Wait, does my mom even know I'm alive?”

“Final question: what was your gun of choice?”

“Easy. Katana I shotgun.”

“All correct. You passed. Congratulations,” Miranda said, still continuing to type.

“Yay,” Shepard said sarcastically. “Do I get a prize? Like answers to my questions?”

Miranda laughed, unaffected. “Patience, Shepard. Everything will be cleared up soon enough.”

* * *

* * *

Shepard remembered that she died.

She knew. She was there. She felt the impact against her helmet that caused it to run out of air. She managed to get Jeff to escape in the pod and to safety, and that was all that mattered. He was safe.

But she remembered the crack. The tiny crack that came from her helmet hitting against the metal frame as she tried to escape. Hell, she felt every suffocating breath. She felt herself die. 

And now, she was alive. 

Shepard has searched in the facility for a communicator. A phone. A computer. _Anything._ Anything to contact Joker, Anderson. Ash or Kaidan. Hell, she would even willingly call her mother. All she got of vague responses was that it was two years after the attack. 

But everything was offline, like Cerberus had planned against her. No extranet to even search an answer for.

And now, Shepard stood in an empty room that was dedicated to talk to just the head man in charge. What kind of dramatic bullshit was this?

The Illusive Man sounded like a joke, but he appeared and greeted Shepard. 

“Illusive Man, how come we’re not meeting face to face?” Shepard asked, apprehensive.

“Necessary precaution. Not unusual for people who know what we know.”

_We? The fuck am I supposed to know?_

“Right,” Shepard said. “From what I hear, I cost you a pretty credit to revive. Why?”

Why her? Why Shepard, out of all the people?

“The same reason why you were alive. The defense and preservation of humanity. I didn’t spend two years and billions of credits bringing you back to serve as a common soldier.”

That was no answer at all. 

“Then why?”

“Humanity is up against the greatest threat of our brief existence.”

“The Reapers.”

“Good to see your memories are still intact. How are you feeling?”

“I noticed a few upgrades,” Shepard moved her hand, the light purple hue moving around her hand. The force of her more upgraded biotics power caught her by surprise in the middle of fighting the mechs alongside Jacob. “I hope you didn’t replace anything important.”

“We tried keeping you as intact as when we found you. Well, aside from finding you dead.”

“Heh,” Shepard quirked her brow. “Good one.”

“We did not alter your brain. Just enhanced your biotics and made you a stronger soldier, a stronger result of what N7 trained you to endure. We don't need a Cerberus soldier. We need _Shepard_ , just as you were in your prime when you defeated Sovereign.”

“What are the Reapers doing that made you decide to bring me back?

“We’re at war. No one wants to admit that. Bad for the press, as one could say,” the Illusive Man stood up, cigarette resting on the ashtray. “But we’ve been under attack. While you were asleep, entire colonies disappeared. Human colonies.”

“Fighting a war doesn’t seem like Cerberus,” Shepard crossed her arms.

The Illusive Man showed some surprise. Instead of saying anything, he took a drag from his cigarette. 

“Yeah, I did some digging before I spaced out. Cerberus is up to some _shady_ stuff. For the hoorah of humanity. So, why are you involved?”

“Because, Shepard, we are committed to the advancement and preservation of humanity. If the Reapers are targeting us, targeting humanity, trying to wipe us out, Cerberus will stop them. If we wait for politicians of the Alliance to act, more human colonies will go missing,”

“That...still makes no sense. The Sovereign Reaper was trying to harvest _all_ life in the galaxy. Why would the Reapers target a few human colonies?”

“You don't see the full picture here. Hundreds of _thousands_ of colonists have vanished. I’d say that fits the definition of harvesting.”

“If the threat is as big as thousands of colonists going missing, then Then how come the Council hasn’t acted?”

The Illusive Man laughed. “Shepard, you know very well how competent the Council is about _humans.”_

At that, Shepard couldn't argue. She grit her teeth. 

“Even though your mentor is a strong advocate for humanity on the Council and representative of humanity in Citadel space, the incidents are too random for a legal investigation.”

“Why are Reapers attacking humans?”

“I don’t know why they’ve suddenly targeted humanity,” the Illusive Man said. “Maybe you got their attention when you killed one of them. So far, you seem to be the only one who has.”

“You're making it sound like I punched a Reaper to death. It wasn't just me: it took hundreds of soldiers who fought alongside me to defeat Sovereign,” Shepard shook her head. “You’re going about this wrong. If this is a threat against _humanity_ , you need to contact the _Alliance_ ,” she said. “Not me. They have sufficient reason to act. They’ve suffered substantial losses in fighting Sovereign.”

“Yes. And the Alliance hasn’t been the same since then. Even if they did listen, they’re still rebuilding. They are still stretched out too thin to waste resources and credits in verifying the Reaper threat. It’s easier for them to blame the abductions on mercs and pirates.”

Goddammit. Shepard inwardly gritted her teeth. Here was a powerful man, who spent billions of credits to bring her back, when he had the strength to help the push to save the colonies. 

“You could have used the fortune on an army instead of just me,” Shepard said. “You could have trained and made a battalion worth of a thousand soldiers from all that money you spent to bring _me_ back. Say what you want, but I’m only one person. I’m only me.”

The Illusive Man laughed.

Shepard watched as he tapped the ash of his cigarette into the ashtray, raising it to his lips to take another drag. 

“Ah, Shepard,” he said after a sigh. “You always were a humble person.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“You downplay your impact. You _are_ unique. And I’m not just saying because of all the times to beat the odds with two fists and a knife. Like I said, you are not a common soldier. You are a _symbol_ of hope. You represented all of humanity in a crucial moment for the fate of the galaxy. To have you join this fight is a beacon of hope against the Reaper threat. A threat that Cerberus takes seriously.”

And he was right. Not on her being unique. But the fact of the Reaper threat.

“I may not like what you do, or your agenda, but…If you are after the Reapers, I’ll help with this mission.”

“Very well. I have a shuttle ready to take you to Freedom’s Progress, the most recent colony to be attacked. Miranda and Jacob will brief you. I brought you back, Shepard. It’s up to you to do the rest.” 

The transmission turned off and left Shepard in a silent room.

To her growing dismay, Shepard still couldn't frown too much. 

Her facial scars still hurt.

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading y'all! Comments are totally welcome!


	3. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It felt too good to be true when he first heard the news about what Cerberus was doing. 
> 
> It still did. 
> 
> Sometimes, he feared he'd wake up only to see that Shepard was dead and all of this was a lie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been in my drafts since June 2017!! Took me long enough!

The day Shepard was said to arrive came two weeks earlier than expected. An attack on the medical facility she was at sent her and the limited Cerberus staff to leave to the main facility where he was headed to now. She was alive, of course. A bunch of mechs can't kill Commander Shepard.

Excitement mixed with some nervousness he didn't know was there.

He drummed his fingers impatiently against his knee as the shuttle pilot continued navigating the course set for the Cerberus outpost that originally had not been the planned location for seeing Shepard awake. It was planned for it to be in three weeks, but of course nothing goes as planned. 

Of _course_ things had to backfire last minute and there had to be a hasty escape with a lot of bullets and new biotic waves. He had seen pictures of the damage from the post-incident report.

One conversation he remembered being back on the SR-1 was unfortunate jinxing. Shepard had made peace or “involuntary acceptance,” as she had worded it to Joker, that life would only get harder after Saren, and oh, was she right. 

Grief for someone you had known your whole life to be suddenly yanked away. He grieved. He wept. He missed her. She was always in the back of his mind. She would have wanted him to continue living, to enjoy life. So he did. He tried. 

A year and a half after the attack, Miranda brought him in and said that Commander Shepard was in the process of being revived.

So there he was now. 

Ten minutes from seeing her alive again.

He thought ahead as to _how_ she would be when she woke up. The attack was two years ago for him: a not so distant, yet not so constant memory that only kept him up for _some_ nights. Only some.

But for her, it was only a while back.

He planned on walking in, no interruptions, and going right up to her. 

When Joker found Miranda, she had a stack of holo pads next to her on the table that she looked over as she sat typing into a laptop.

He didn't bother saying hello. She wouldn't care anyway.

Just as Joker was going to ask, Miranda cut in. “Shepard is speaking with the Illusive Man,” she didn’t bother to look up at him as she continued typing. 

"I need to see her right now."

"Did you not hear me?" Miranda asked as she continued to type.

"Oh, I heard you," Joker said. "I need to see her right now."

The petty part of him would have repeated Miranda’s name over and over until she got annoyed and gave in. It was how he bugged Gunny for her to pay attention to him. It was how it worked. Annoy the shit out of someone and they're bound to react someway or another.

But rather than having Miranda look down on him even more than she already did, he went with the silent treatment. He stood, unmoving from his place for a good few moments until Miranda gave in.

"Fine," Miranda stood up and led the way to the same meeting room that Joker was always escorted to for the handful of times he had to interact with the Illusive Man. "Seeing that you won't give up, I'd rather not deal with your shit today. I have, frankly, had enough of nothing going to plan and everything going right up and sideways, so I’m not dealing with your shit today. Just stay quiet until he finishes talking with her.” 

It was only when Miranda typed in the code and let Joker quietly enter the room that it hit him how real this was.

And there she was. 

Awake. Alive. So close yet so far.

Shepard stood in casual Cerberus uniform, similar to the one Joker was wearing himself. Her curly hair was long, past the Alliance permitted hair length. All in her tougher than nails glory.

Her arms were crossed, and everything of her radiated the Shepard attitude the Council complained so much about. Her stance, her tone, her presence. She was there. She was _alive._

And she was pissed. 

"I have a set of dossiers of team members for you to recruit. They will be plenty resourceful to the mission," the Illusive Man said.

Shepard shook her head. "Not needed," she said. Joker could hear the unspoken ‘fuck your list’ in the air. "I want my squad that helped me stop Saren."

Shepard didn't like to be told what to do when it was her team in question. She wasn't afraid or intimidated by the Illusive Man.

Cerberus should know that Shepard was more than a handful. This was the woman who called the most powerful council in space multiple times just to hang up on them. The woman who, according to Kaidan and Tali and archived helmet cam footage, _punched_ Saren to death for the final blows of the fight. 

"Again, that was two years ago, Shepard," the Illusive Man responded, not showing any reaction to Joker being there as the door softly hissed shut behind him. "Most of them have moved on to different allegiances."

Shepard wasn't budging. “That’s not good enough. I did you a _favor_ by investigating the colony. And in return, you promised me answers to my questions,” she said. “ _Clear_ answers, not excuses for cryptic bullshit.”

She had the advantage of the fact that, well, she _was_ her. She was Commander Shepard. She could easily go rogue from Cerberus the moment she chose to. But even now, he knew she wouldn’t, not when so much was at stake.

“So who lived? Who died? Give me logs, death certificates, anything,” Shepard demanded. “I want to know if the squad and crew of the Normandy survived.”

Joker leaned against the wall as he watched her demand answers from the Illusive Man. Even through a hologram, she wasn’t letting him budge. Part of it was that Shepard's attitude was something Udina always complained about. 

“And I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Nope, it wasn’t part of it. All of it.

Some statuses of the former squad, he already knew: Kaidan hadn’t spoken to him since the funeral, Ashley had cursed him out at the trial and He didn't talk to Liara much afterward, the Asari archeologist quietly drifting away to do her thing. Wrex went to Tuchanka and he hadn’t heard much ever since. As was the same for Garrus. Kaidan was off doing Alliance Business in an unknown quadrant of the grand expanse of the Milky Way, but Joker wouldn't know since, well, he was grounded.

He was glad Tali was okay. He always liked Tali.

“Shepard,” the Illusive Man set his cigarette down. “I’m not holding anything over you. These are the clear answers you asked for.”

“I don’t believe you.” 

“There has to be a little bit of trust for this to work out,” the Illusive Man 

Joker almost laughed out loud at the perplexed look of absolute disgust that crossed Shepard’s face. 

“ _Trust_?” Shepard snarled. “You want me to _trust_ you?” 

“Now hold on,” the Illusive Man’s tone didn’t change. He was patient, collected. “You don’t have to like Cerberus. You don’t even have to like me. But you need to work on this mission. With us. We both know that these attacks against humanity are only going to get worse. Shepard, I am not the villain here. I’m not giving you orders, telling you what to do. I'm merely giving you _direction_. How you go about it is up to you. You have more experience at being Commander Shepard than any of us ever will.”

“Fine,” Shepard said, tone still aggravated. Untrusting. Like she would only accept a handshake on the condition of pointing a knife at him with her spare hand. “I’ll work with you.”

“Now that we are on the same page, here are two things. First, head to Omega and speak with Mordin Solus. He's a brilliant scientist and will definitely be of aid to our cause."

Shepard sighed. "Fine," she replied. "What's the second thing?"

"To accomplish this mission, you're going to need a ship. We already have that covered. And you're going to need a pilot.”

“There’s only one I will fly with,” Shepard said. 

“We have one that fits the criteria. I think you might like him. He's one of the best in the galaxy, or so he presumes. In fact," the Illusive Man reached out a panel next to him and began cutting the transmission. "Why don't you ask him yourself?" he vaguely gestured then hung up.

The lights turned back on in the room. Light poured in from the doorway behind Shepard and she turned around.

New scars were scattered across her face, rather than the old ones he was so familiar with. But she was alive.

Alive.

For the lack of better words, he smiled and asked “So should I be jealous of this one pilot you mentioned?"

Shepard was speechless. She stood still, frozen in place.

"Oh my god," Shepard ran to him and pulled him into a tight hug. Almost like she was just as afraid as he was that if he let her go, she would disappear again. “You're alive,” Shepard said softly. “Oh my god, you're _alive_.”

He knew the attack would be fresh on her mind. Two years ago for him, less than a few hours for her.

But knowing was one thing and feeling her in his arms was another.

So he hugged her closer, almost so impossibly close, and he just...existed. He felt his existence, her existence again, rather than a memory. Her chest shook with sobs that he knew she tried to subside. Her old scars were gone and replaced with new ones. Oh, how he missed her. He missed her so much.

“Yeah honey, I'm right here,” Joker murmured.

It felt too good to be true when he first heard the news about what Cerberus was doing. It still did. Sometimes, he feared he'd wake up only to see that Shepard was dead and all of this was a lie.

But it wasn't a lie.

Because there she was. No longer just in his thoughts and memories, but also in his arms. Her heart is alive and beating. Her face is his neck, his hand in her hair. Not letting go of him.

Waiting for this moment?

So goddamn worth it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all, I almost put this chapter in my Assassin's Creed fic. I mixed up the fics. Can you imagine sending out 45 emails with the WRONG update? Too funny. Talk about self promoting your own fanfic in another fandom.
> 
> Also, while I'm here! Y'all can read my Asscreed fic, So Let The River Run, ;D
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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